


109. superman is dead

by piggy09



Series: The Sestre Daily Drabble Project [46]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 20:08:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7771444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/pseuds/piggy09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It wasn’t supposed to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	109. superman is dead

**Author's Note:**

> LOOK I'M SORRY

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It wasn’t supposed to. The gunshot, and Sarah, and it wasn’t supposed to. Helena knows. The others know, too, in their way – Cosima wailing, Alison white and pale, Felix and Missus S and Kira and all of them knew. But they didn’t know the way Helena knew: that this is something that could never happen. That this was, at its heart, _wrong_.

So here Helena is, at the crossroads. She isn’t holding anything. She walked all the way here with empty pockets. The only thing she left is a note that says _I’m sorry, but it had to be like this_.

I’m sorry. But.

It was a lie, that she isn’t holding anything. She has the knife. But sometimes she forgets she has the knife, because it is so much a part of her.

The knife, and Helena, and it was always supposed to end like this. Blood on the crossroads. Here is a road going one way, and here is a road going another way, and they have to meet sometime. Only once. Only one time. Blood in the dirt, and Helena saying: “Please.”

God doesn’t listen to her much. But maybe He knew that this wasn’t supposed to happen. Or maybe this is the one singular kindness Helena has earned, in her short sad life. Just this. Just this one thing.

Which is to say: Sarah’s hand clenches on Helena’s shoulder and Sarah yells “Helena?!” She yells it with such panic. Helena is crying; she doesn’t know when she started. The sound of Sarah’s voice yelling her name, afraid. She didn’t know she would care that much about that sound.

“Hello,” she says, and opens her eyes. Sarah’s hand on her shoulder is constant, insistent, and so Helena is on her back now in the good brown dirt. Sarah is kneeling above her, blocking out the sun; it haloes her, catches in her hair. Helena smiles at her, weak, cracked lips.

“You came back,” she says.

“No,” Sarah says. “No no no, keep pressure on your stomach, okay, I’m gonna – call an ambulance—”

“Sarah,” Helena says. “Do you remember dying. Did it hurt.”

“What are you _talking_ about,” Sarah says frantically. She’s patting down her pockets, but she doesn’t have a cell phone. Helena doesn’t have one either. There are no ambulances to call, anyways. It’s too late for this.

“I know it hurts,” Helena says, “to remember. But Sarah, I’m scared. I need to know. Did it hurt.”

“Helena, I’m not dead,” Sarah says. Her hands are cupping Helena’s face, and her face is so close, and Helena can see the gold flecks in her sister’s eyes. So gold. She doesn’t think her own eyes have ever been gold.

“I know you aren’t,” Helena says. She lifts a hand from her stomach and presses it to Sarah’s cheekbone. She smears rust-red down Sarah’s face, and she’s sorry, but also she isn’t. It gives Sarah something to remember her by.

“You can’t be either,” Sarah says. She’s crying. Her tears are on Helena’s face, and Helena’s blood is on Sarah’s face, and that probably means something. Something important. If Helena could _remember_ —

Sarah’s still talking, watery distant words. _You can’t leave me, Helena, Helena please, you_ can’t _, Helena keep breathing, you’ll be okay, Helena, Helena, please—_

“Promise me,” Helena says, to Sarah or the sky or maybe both, “that you will let me go. Promise me this.”

“No,” Sarah says. Beautiful stubborn Sarah, who died and then came back again and then refused to turn around and see her own ghost haunting her. Sarah who will live forever, if Helena has anything to say about it.

“Sarah,” Helena says weakly, “I am doing this for you. Please. I’m ready. Sarah—”

And she stops. It hurts too much. She wishes Sarah would have told her that it didn’t hurt – dying. Helena could have believed her, and that would have been a nice way to go.

But she didn’t. And here they are: Helena bleeding, Sarah crying.

“Sing me to sleep,” she says. Sarah chokes on her own tears a little – but. She does.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading...please kudos + comment if you enjoyed.


End file.
